Friday, September 2, 2011

People say all small towns look the same. The old brick buildings guarding the streets silently speak of the past, when they were new and full of life. The traffic light on Main Street measures the slow pace of life in increments of green, yellow and red. Most times, the Christmas decorations go up on the streetlights after Halloween and don’t come down until the first warm day of spring.

The flag at the courthouse is no odd sight; flags in small towns are common and patriotism runs high along with societal values. The speed limit is no more than 35, and everyone knows that. There’s no reason to rush, anyway.

My first clue that something was different about Madill that August day was the sign. On the very far northern edge of the “city” limits someone had placed a huge banner by the side of the two-lane highway. It stood unfurled between two wooden poles.

Red and blue magic marker starbursts filled the white void of the background around the letters, leaving no doubt that the banner had taken hours of loving, painstaking precision to create.

And the rockets’ red glare,
The bombs bursting in air…

The banner stood as the beginning of what was to be a somber twenty miles of driving for me that day. Only a few feet from where the banner had been placed, small roadside flags were planted in the parched Oklahoma soil. There had been no rain for weeks, and with our record-breaking number of triple-digit days, I could only imagine how hard it must have been to push those small, fragile twelve-inch sticks into the rock-hard ground at such measured intervals.

If you’ve ever lived in a small town, you know Saturday mornings are the liveliest, busiest times of the week. Not so on this Saturday morning. As I topped the hill and the main part of town came into view, my heart skipped a beat. I had never seen such a profusion of color. Red, white and blue—everywhere. Flags flew from every porch, every small business, every conceivable place visible…and that could only mean one very tragic thing.

Gave proof through the night
That our flag was still there…

I slowed down to twenty-five as tears blurred my eyes. A car pulled out in front of me a little further down the road, and I looked to my right. The side road had been blocked off. There were at least two hundred motorcycles parked beside the First Baptist Church. The Patriot Guard Riders had come to pay their respects—and to be certain that everyone else did, too, should a certain crazed group of fanatics from Kansas decide to make an appearance.

Across from the motorcycles, a huge, beautiful American flag was unfurled, the field of blue lending its stars to heaven, the stripes perpendicular to the ground. In front of that flag stood perhaps fifty lawmen of every type, a mix from both sides of the Red River, Texans and Oklahomans.

The parking lots for the businesses in the immediate area were full to overflowing, even though none of those businesses were open. Signs filled the windows under where the flags flew: “CLOSED. BACK AT 1:00 P.M. REST IN PEACE, JOE.”

I stopped at the light on Main Street. The courthouse flag was, of course, flying at half-mast. There were no other cars on the road. The one that had pulled out in front of me earlier had turned off a block back, at the first available parking place, a long, half-mile hike away from the church. I was driving through a ghost town.

The signboard at the Grab & Go read, “OBAMA MAY BE PRESIDENT, BUT GOD IS STILL IN CHARGE.” Any other time, I might have smiled, but not with that small picket of flags that still sporadically lined the road, reminding me of the terrible loss this town was reeling from.

Another hand-lettered sign by the road: “WE’LL MISS YOU, JOE. GO WITH GOD.”
And yet, another: “REST IN PEACE, JOE. WE WILL NEVER FORGET.”

I drove out of Madill, headed for Kingston, another small town, a few short miles away.

Small towns, close together, are usually rivals on the high school football field and in most other things, but when all is said and done, we remember that we are, all of us, citizens of the same wonderful country, and that’s what matters—more than who wins the game on Friday night, more than which town has the best point guard on the basketball court, and more than which quarterback has better chances with the big college scouts. As Americans, we all have equal ‘bragging rights’—we are Americans, and no other country pulls together as we do when the going gets tough.

I couldn’t think of anything, anywhere, any time being tougher than losing even one of our young men to war. A bright smile that would never be seen again, coming through his parents’ door; two arms that could never open to hug his best girl again; the echoing sound of emptiness forever where once his steps fell—an aching, empty hole in the lives of every person he ever knew that could never, never be filled.

My thoughts rolled over one another as I drove. I wondered about him, about his family—about what he’d left behind, and how the people he’d known would ever manage to survive without him in their lives forevermore.

I was on the fringes of Kingston when the roadside flags started up in earnest again—though they’d never completely stopped. But now, it looked as if someone had planted a beautiful garden of red, white, and blue flowers in the cracked, dry Oklahoma soil.

As Kingston came into view ahead, flags fluttered in the wind at every business. Some buildings had bunting on their storefronts.

It doesn’t take long to cover the few miles from one end of Kingston to the other. But with every inch of ground I traveled, there was no doubt that 2nd Lieutenant Joe Cunningham was remembered, respected, and revered.

As I drove out of town, yellow ribbons tied around several branches of a tree in someone’s yard caught my eye.

“HE IS HOME. REST IN PEACE.”

No small town rivalry, now. As Americans all, we share only a unified, joint loss of a shining star; the precious, irreplaceable light of someone’s life.

He was 27. He loved to hunt and fish. He had dreams of becoming a highway patrol officer and finishing his degree. He always wore a smile.

I will never drive that sad stretch of road again without remembering a man I never met. A hometown hero is gone forever, but he will never, never be forgotten.

WOLF CREEK: BOOK 1 BLOODY TRAIL

Bill Torrance, Spike Sweeney, Derrick McCain, Charley Blackfeather, G.W. Satterlee, and Logan Munro are common citizens, until the day their small town of Wolf Creek, Kansas, comes under a methodically cruel siege. Led by one of the most brutal men of the post Civil War years, Jim Danby, the outlaw gang that invades Wolf Creek figures they got away clean with murder and bank robbery. But the dwellers of Wolf Creek have secrets of their own, and the posse that goes after Danby and his men are anything but the ordinary people they seemed to be before the attack. They’ll go to any lengths to keep their town safe, no matter how long they have to follow the BLOODY TRAIL.

TEMPTATION'S TOUCH

Two broken hearts find a second chance at love, but only if they manage to survive– When Kendi Morgan witnesses an attempted murder near her home one night, she makes the only choice possible: help the victim. But bringing the handsome stranger into her home traps her in the middle of a deadly drug war.

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FIRE EYES

GET THE BREATHTAKING FULL LENGTH VERSION!

Marshal Kaed Turner is given a rare second chance at love with the mysterious woman the Choctaw call “Fire Eyes.” But can he quiet the ghosts from his past and protect the love that was stolen from him once before? There’s only one way: Kill outlaw Andrew Fallon, along with the murdering band of men he leads.

TIME PLAINS DRIFTER

Cover by JESSICA PIERSON

WELCOME TO CHERYL PIERSON BOOKS!

Welcome to my Cheryl Pierson Books blog where once a week I will try to post a somewhat coherent and helpful blog entry about writing fiction. Please come by often and let me know what you like/dislike and would enjoy seeing more of. This is not a blog about my daily life and how many loads of laundry I must do before I write my next scene. Hopefully, this blog will prove to be worthy of the time you spend reading and the time I spend writing. Jump in and let me know what you think!

ROMANTIC TIMES REVIEWS FIRE EYES

Pierson’s novel conveys the nicely realistic feel of the Old West, wrapped around an enjoyable love story. There’s a modicum of blood and violence, and the secondary characters add a good minor story thread.

Summary: The Choctaw call her Fire Eyes and see her as a healer. When they deliver a criticallywounded man to widow Jessica Monroe, she knows she has to help him. The man, whom she soon discovers is Marshal Kaed Turner, slowly regains his strength and begins thinking that settling down might not be so bad. Even after a bad marriage, Jessica hopes Kaed might want to stay. But he’s determined to catch the men that killed a young marshal and caused the death of two Choctaw girls — which ends up putting Jessica and her baby daughter in danger. Susan Mobley

ANOTHER FANTASTIC REVIEW FOR FIRE EYES!

Steph Burkhart gives Fire Eyes a 4.5, wonderful review! Here's what she had to say:

Book Review for “Fire Eyes”Written by: Cheryl Pierson

4.5 Stars

Pierson pens a riveting romance with lush settings and compelling characters in “Fire Eyes.” Set in the American old west just after the Civil War, Pierson submerses the reader in pure action. Kaed Turner is an experienced U.S. Marshal who learns that a younger Marshal has gone after Andrew Fallon, a man whose criminal actions border on insanity. Kaed arrives too late to help Mitch Beckley. Fallon has Mitch hostage, as well as two young native American girls. Kaed is helpless to prevent their deaths. Fallon assaults him and leaves him for dead. Standing Bear, the local Indian chief, finds Kaed, barely alive, and brings him to a white woman known to Indians as “Fire Eyes.”

“Fire Eyes,” is Jessica Monroe, and she lives in a cabin outside of the fort near the Indians. Jessica is raising a baby who was abandoned by her father when her mother died. The Indians bring Kaed to Jessica. She springs into action, nursing him back to life from the brink of death.

Kaed and Jessica fall in love as she’s nursing him. They commit to each other. Kaed’s Marshal friends find him with Jessica. They tell him they are on Fallon’s trail (Fallon has taken two new hostages) and while Kaed isn’t fully healed, he goes with them to find Fallon. Jessica understands, but she’dsconcerned for Kaed’s well-being since he isn’t fully healed.

The Marshals dogged pursuit of Fallon is not without a price. When Kaed learns Jessica’s life his threatened by the ruthless Fallon, he hurries home hoping to prevent the criminal from killing his new family.

Pierson’s writing is crisp and sharp. Her beginning grabs the reader immediately, holding them in the moment. Her dialogue is authentic, evoking the old west with little effort. Pierson’s descriptions are rich with emotional metaphors. Her love scenes are tasteful, full of passion.

Pierson writes in a point of view that shifts between characters within scenes. Known as a “Lonesome Dove” perspective (after the same novel) this point of view can be confusing to readers, however, the romance genre is generally forgiving of it.

Pierson’s characters are real with strengths and weakness that the modern reader can identify with. The supporting cast compliments the main characters. The plot moves fast, unraveling the romance between Kaed and Jessica at break-neck speed. “Fire Eyes” is a story that brings the American west alive. It’s a perfect book to curl up next to the fireplace with, taking the reader on a rich, romantic adventure to the past.

INTERVIEW ON 'THE EXAMINER' FOR FIRE EYES!

Read what I had to on the subject of romance writing, and my favorite hero and heroine, Kaed Turner and Jessica Monroe! Visit Fran Lee's Examiner column below!

TIME PLAINS DRIFTER IS RE-RELEASED WITH A NEW PUBLISHER! Here's a peek at what the story is all about.

The last thing Federal Marshal Rafe d’Angelico expected was to die. And he certainly didn’t intend to become some kind of angel! But when a train robbery goes south and Rafe and his brother, Cris, are both double-crossed and gunned down by fellow marshal Josiah Kemp, that’s exactly what happens. Rafe “wakes up” sixteen years later, facing a future even more uncertain than the one he left behind so abruptly. Becket Jansen, the “angel in charge”, seems unwilling or unable to tell him what to expect. Why has Rafe been “chosen” for this particular task—whatever it might be? Soon enough, answers begin to show themselves—in the very real form of the problem Rafe faces—protecting beautiful young high school teacher Jenni Dalton and seven of her students who have been thrown back in time from 110 years in the future. Their nemesis is a deadly force of evil that Rafe already knows too well—Josiah Kemp. And this time, Kemp is in league with Hell itself.

FIRE EYES Reviewed by Samantha Daniels, CRR

5 wings

Instead of leaving US Marshal Kaed Turner for dead, Choctaw Indians toss him on Jessica Monroe’s doorstep with deadly instructions to keep him alive. This is not the first time she has met such a request, but it is the first time she cares about the outcome.

A woman living alone has much to fear, and her deadliest apprehension now rests in her bed with massive injuries. Keeping the marshal alive is only the beginning. The Indians return with an even more serious demand, one she is uncertain she can oblige.

Cheryl Pierson has secured a fan! If you aren’t fond of westerns, you will be after reading her debut novel, Fire Eyes. And if you love historical westerns, make room on your shelf for a new favorite.

Fire Eyes opens with a gritty setup that grabs your attention and doesn’t let go. I was on the edge of my seat and gasping for breath throughout the entire book. The appearance of one character in particular kept me guessing if he was to be trusted. I rooted for Jessica when she met him at the door with a loaded shotgun, but then I chewed on my lip when she invited him into her home. What was she thinking? I did breathe easier when she kept the gun nearby. And when Kaed discovered a connection between Jessica and his own past, I read even faster. I had to know if this information would alter his thoughts. I was not disappointed, and you won’t be either.

Ms Pierson does such a wonderful job with surprises and twists that I went back to reread the book immediately to see all of the hints she sprinkled along the way.

The author’s writing style is so deliciously easy to follow that I finished several chapters without realizing I had turned a page. And the characters, oh, my. Kaed is the kind of character I search for in every book I read, strong and virile but with flaws and weaknesses. Jessica is Kaed’s match in every way, but not in a competitive, I’m-as-macho-as-the-man way. I love it when an author knows how to portray male and female characters that remain true to their gender.

Ms Pierson has done her homework. She delivers a story that is true to the time and setting without making you feel as though you have read a documentary. I hope there are more books in production by this author because I can’t wait to read them.

MORE FANTASTIC REVIEWS FOR FIRE EYES!

Beaten and wounded by a band of sadistic renegades that rules the borderlands of Indian Territory, U.S. Marshal Kaed Turner understands what the inevitable outcome will be for him: death. But Fate and a war party of Choctaw Indians intervene, delivering him instead to a beautiful angel with the skill to heal him. Jessica Monroe has already lost a husband and a brother to the outlaws who tortured Marshal Turner. As the rugged lawman lies bleeding on her bed, she faces a difficult decision. Can she afford to gamble with her heart one last time? For when Kaed recovers, he is sworn to join the other Territorial Peace Officers in their battle to wipe out the renegade gang once and for all. When vengeance is done, will Kaed keep riding? Or will he return to claim his future with the beautiful woman the Choctaw call "Fire Eyes?" Widow Jessica Monroe, named Fire Eyes by the Choctaw chief Standing Bear, earned the Indian’s respect when she stood firm against him and his warriors. Even though he saw the fear in he eyes, he also saw determination and courage burning even brighter in them.Adept at healing, Jessica helps other when she can, but holds herself away from pain, laughter, and love. She and Baby Lexie sense a change in theirs lives when Standing Bear brings the nearly dead Marshal Kaedon Turner to her cabin.Kaedon, in an effort to save Standing Bear’s two granddaughters, takes on a fight he knows he cannot win but one he cannot walk away from either. Tough as a boot, he survives unbelievable abuse before Standing Bear arrives. At Jessica’s his bloodlust subsides when vaguely in his pain-hazed mind he hears her say, “I’m here, I care", then he feels her light kiss. To him "she looked into his soul” and became his Angel. Fire Eyes, full of strong characters, takes the emotions on a rollercoaster ride from unspeakable cruelty of Fallon’s Brigade to the sensual, deep love--soul mate love of Kaedon and Jessica. Kaedon heals too fast for reality, but with all the happenings, one hardly notices because there is too much excitement to be bothered.The secondary story involving Tori and Lily is heart stopping, while the story of Kaedon’s fellow marshals and their loyalty to each other is one that shows a part of human nature so admired, that part that says I am my brother’s keeper.Cheryl Pierson creates a spellbinding story that keeps the reader turning pages.

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FIRE EYES by CHERYL PIERSON

Marshal Kaed Turner is given a rare second chance at love with the mysterious woman the Choctaw call “Fire Eyes.” But can he quiet the ghosts from his past and protect the love that was stolen from him once before? There’s only one way: Kill outlaw Andrew Fallon, along with the murdering band of men he leads. Order your copy on May 29!

A NIGHT FOR MIRACLES by CHERYL PIERSON

When widow Angela Bentley takes in injured ex-gunhawk Nick Dalton and three orphans on Christmas Eve, she is determined only to lend a hand where needed. But when the children drag in a small, scraggly Christmas tree, Angela finds herself wanting to create a memorable holiday for them. Can these visitors become the family she longs for? For those who believe in miracles, anything is possible--even true love, in the most unlikely circumstances.

UNTIL THE LAST STAR BURNS OUT (Excerpt)

Excerpt from my short story, UNTIL THE LAST STAR BURNS OUT, a free read with The Wild Rose Press http://www.thewildrosepress.comSam Johnson has returned from the States War a changed man. Can Leah's love make him whole again?“I’ll love you forever, Leah Ross,” he’d told her. “Until the last star in the sky burns out. And that’ll never happen.”

She’d been eleven, and he thirteen. Twelve years, he’d held her heart. She’d thought she needed to salvage the pieces of her shredded love and go her own way. But the way he’d just looked at her changed everything.

She had wanted him back the way he was when they’d married—five long years earlier, before this wretched war had ruined every plan they’d made in those sweet, dark hours of night as they’d lain together, spent and sated. Making love with her was like coming home, he’d told her once in those early times.

Yet, he had not reached for her during the night since he’d been back. He held himself apart from her, silent and brooding in his lonely agony.

Now, with that one look, Leah understood everything. It would never be like it had before. They were both different people, and she could only hope the love remained, as strong and true as it had been since the first time Sam had kissed her on the banks of Boggy Creek. The day he’d promised to love her until the stars burned out.

“Let’s go to bed,” she whispered. The blatant invitation beneath the innocent words brought warmth to her cheeks.

Instant denial flared in his eyes. She didn’t miss the quick glance he gave his hands, and she knew what he was thinking—that they were bloodied forever, not fit to touch her. Her heart twisted as she remembered the young boy who’d so solemnly declared his love for her, the serious duty-bound man she’d married. The war-ravaged soldier who now sat hollowly across from her was not that man. Did she possess what was needed to bring Sam—her Sam—back?

The words he’d written haunted her not only for the love they steadfastly proclaimed, but also for the sanity he’d mentioned, and had held so closely guarded. What had he seen, these past years? What had he done? A fearsome thought threaded through her soul. He’d spent a year in a Union prison camp. What had been done to him? Maybe that was why he’d lost every shred of faith in humanity—even in his own.

Even in hers, it seemed.

She swallowed hard, knowing she may have to say some things that cut him, to re-open some old wounds and let them bleed clean to help him find his way back to her. The man who wrote such lovely things, who held those memories so dear in his heart, was still inside him. Somewhere.

When he’d left his post as a U.S. Marshal to join the ranks of the Confederacy, she’d somehow known he would return to her. She’d thanked God for sending him home unscathed, but he’d been scarred badly in a way she never imagined.

Leah steeled herself, her heart pounding. It was not in her to be cruel, but she’d never run from anything. She would fight to bring Sam back.

“You may not remember how to love, but I do, Sam.” She unbuttoned her blouse.

His dark eyes flashed anger at her words. The blouse drifted to the floor, followed by her stays, and he sat forward, a spark of desire leaping into his expression. His eyes pierced her soul with a look of loss and love, of hope, and of despair of ever finding what he searched for again.

“Leah.” His voice was almost a growl.

The fire cracked and popped behind her, and she reached to unfasten her skirt and petticoats.

“We’ve slept together for a month now. You’ve held yourself away from me, even in sleep, as if you think you’re tainted somehow. As if you think you aren’t worthy.”

The skirt and petticoats joined the blouse on the floor, and she stripped off her pantalettes and stockings quickly before she lost her nerve.

Sam tugged at his shirt collar, his gaze never leaving her. “Christ, Leah,” he whispered hoarsely.She held her hand out to him, and after a moment’s hesitation, he took it. As he stood up, Leah heard his shallow breathing, ragged and uneven. Her lips curved upward.

He held himself taut and tense, and she reached for the first button at the front of his chambray shirt.

“It’s Christmas Eve, in case you didn’t realize it,” she said quietly.

“I realized.”

WHAT AM I WORKING ON?--November 2010

I finished another western historical called Gabriel's Law, and it's under consideration with Berkley right now. It's a story about a young half-breed Comanche gunfighter who becomes involved with a young woman from his past. But is it love or obligation that keeps him at Allie Taylor's ranch? As she opens her home to eighteen orphan boys and tries to give them a place in the world by becoming cattle ranchers, Brandon Gabriel will have to decide if he will be able to quell his restless side and become part of her dream, or if he'll walk out of her life forever.

My contemporary WIP is called "OF DREAMS FORGOTTEN." A young woman, Kendi Morgan, hears a truck motor running one cold fall night. Determined to stop the high school pranksters from partying on her property one more night, she heads to the creek to make them leave. But when she gets there, she witnesses a "murder", or so she believes at first. Rather than high school kids, she comes upon the "execution" of a member of a drug ring...only, he's not dead. She has become an unwitting witness to a federal drug sting gone awry and now must save herself and the man she's brought home with her. But choices are never easy, especially since she's falling in love... Can Gage Chandlerbe trusted? Kendi's brother's life is at stake--and so is her heart.I also have a short story in the works right now for an upcoming anthology with Victory Tales Press. It's for the "western saga" anthology.